OOC: Keep this 48 hours posting
Altair had been on this planet just once before, and it was with his Master Veles. It wasn’t too long ago that he felt the horrible pain of loss, a severing of their bond. It was a numb pain since he hadn’t seen the man in years, but it was there all the same. And Altair knew that Veles was no more. He had no desire to be on the planet, but some bitch in the senate from the comfort of her pod decided the entire galaxy needed to root out some swamp witch that minded her business for years.
He was normally not the petty type, but he certainly entertained discussing with ISB ways to make Governor Archer personally suffer for the countless losses he was about to take today. Altair knew Nightisisters were batshit - they would fight till their last breath before giving up Andruil, and Andruil was more likely to become the new Jedi Grandmaster than to leave Dathomir quietly.
He wasn’t the type to stay back in safety while his men got butchered, so he walked down the ramp of his ship to set foot on the planet against the suggestion of his advisors. There was a small fleet hovering above, but he knew there was no real fleet defense here. This would almost exclusively be a ground assault.
The Grand Marshall was dressed in his officer’s uniform, knowing he would have to rely on the Force today. He had his gauntlets at the ready, along with his old wan-shen tucked away. He surveyed the lands and grimaced, pulling up his comms to address the other Imperial leads, “They have unconventional means of fighting. Expect guerilla tactics and the use of local animals both on ground and aerially. Deploy AT units. Prepare to distribute rancor pheromones when necessary,” It was a measure he thought of applying if they faced any. Veles had been instrumental in educating Altair on Dathomir.
“I need a scouting report stat.”
He could already tell this would be a long, grueling assault.
@Alhon @Phoenix